


Birth / Day

by Rose Argent (roseargent)



Category: Kiddy Grade
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseargent/pseuds/Rose%20Argent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eclair and Lumiere have a night out to celebrate a special day. Things do not quite go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birth / Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalloway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy the fic! It was wonderful to get a chance to write these characters, and I hope I did them justice.
> 
> This fic is almost certainly not compliant with _Kiddy Girl-and_ or any of the supplementary material.

"This isn't necessary." It was only a token protest, and not one that Lumière expected to have any effect. 

Sure enough, Éclair just answered, "I know," with the sound of a smile in her voice. So Lumière demurred, giving in to the inevitable. She was glad, however, that her chair had been turned away from the mirror for this process, because she could feel the blush heating her cheeks as Éclair ran the brush through her hair. She had almost forgotten the intimacy of this small pleasure. But once Éclair started gently twisting and pulling and pinning the locks in place Lumière began to worry again, just a bit. Her robots had been doing her hair wonderfully for many decades, and really, Éclair's tastes could be a little...

Neatly solving the problem of creating a dramatic reveal with a chair that did not swivel, Éclair simply lifted it, occupant and all, and turned it to face the mirror before putting it down again. "Ta-da~a!"

"Oh!" Lumière lifted a hand to carefully touch her hair, which had--but for a few locks left to frame her face--been swept up into a simple, clean twist. The up-do was sleek and, frankly, elegant, with just a few subtle hints of sparkle in the pins used to hold it in place. "It's lovely!" 

Éclair grinned and leaned forward over Lumière's shoulder to kiss her on the cheek. "See, I have tricks up my sleeve that even you haven't seen!"

Lumière resisted the urge to ask, then, why Éclair didn't use such tricks on her own hair. It was to be a night of celebration, and Éclair's surprise insistence on styling Lumière's hair herself was sweet. All the more sweet for having come out well, Lumière had to admit.

"Okay! I better go get changed!" Éclair pulled away and bounded out of the room merrily.

Turning her head this way and that, and pleased to note that her hairdo neither budged nor pinched at her scalp, Lumière hummed thoughtfully. Depending on how the light caught the pins they sparkled white and an aquamarine just a few shades lighter than her hair. Really, if Éclair had this sort of subtle colour sense all along, why did she never apply it to her own appearance? Dismissing that line of thought with a sigh, Lumière turned her attention to her waiting robots. "Perhaps the green and black satin." 

She tried three more dresses after that, before finally deciding her first instinct had been the right one. Smoothing her hands down the close-fitting fabric, Lumière sighed contentedly. To have the same body long enough to fit into _adult clothing_ was such an rare luxury. 

Shoes, jewellery and makeup came next, and she chose understated looks for the latter two, to let the dress and the hair shine all the more. Taking in the final effect in the mirror, Lumière smiled. 

Éclair was, of course, waiting for her in the foyer, no doubt having thrown herself into her clothes in a matter of moments. Her stunning black dress fit her like a glove--as well it should, having been tailored to her measurements--but she wore it like she'd borrowed it for the night and couldn't quite get comfortable. Sighing again, but fondly, Lumière went to her and straightened the dress a little here, tugged it a bit there, and suddenly Éclair let out the breath she'd clearly been holding in before. "That's so much better! I was starting to think I'd put on weight!"

Again, Lumière resisted the urge to tease Éclair a little, and instead pulled out the necklace she'd brought down for Éclair. "I knew you'd neglect accessories." 

"Oh, wow, it's gorgeous! But kind of... fragile, for me, isn't it?" Éclair was eyeing the necklace like it would fall apart just being near her. 

"Nonsense." Lumière leaned in, brushing Éclair's hair out of the way and fastening the clasp behind her neck. The chain was just the right length for the pendant to lie perfectly flat against Éclair's breastbone, instead of getting lost in her cleavage. 

Éclair touched the fine chain nervously, but it was obvious that she loved the way the light brought out deep red highlights in the nearly-black pendant. Taking pity on her, Lumière admitted, "I had it made specially. The clasp will break at a sharp pull, for safety, but the materials are all but indestructible otherwise. Even for you." 

"You had it made? For me? But... it's _your_ birthday!" Éclair seemed poleaxed, touching the pendant with a look of wonder. "It's beautiful! It's just..."

Lumière laughed, and kissed Éclair to stop her talking for a moment. "It's my fictional birthday. There's no reason we can't both get presents. Now, we'd best be going or we'll be late."

The distress clearing from her face, Éclair kissed Lumière back. "Whatever the birthday girl wants."

***

Lumière was a touch disappointed when the restaurant didn't insist on seeing her ID when she ordered wine--it took a little of the fun out of being physically old enough to have a fine vintage in public without needing to call it "grape juice." She'd even had a civilian ID made with her fictional birthdate on it, and not getting to use it seemed a waste of the effort the tech department had put into backstopping the identity. The wine itself quickly washed away that hint of disappointment, however, as it was one of the finest she'd tasted in all her decades of life. "The sommelier here is remarkable."

Éclair smiled in that absent way she had when Lumière was talking about something that she didn't really get. "The food's really good, too." It had been a challenge finding a fine dining establishment with an extensive wine cellar _and_ food that wasn't too precious. Taking Éclair somewhere that served tiny--if exquisitely crafted--portions of food would only have resulted in a hungry and irritable Éclair; it wasn't much of a celebration if only one of them was having fun.

They talked mostly about work and work-friends, but Lumière never minded that. Their hobbies and interests were so different, they'd given up trying to explain the appeal to each other decades ago. Every now and then, the topic would drift to fond memories, but seldom for long--the good memories all lay too close to the bad ones, making the present a less fraught topic by far.

While Lumière was deciding between another glass of wine or splurging on the rest of the bottle, something not-quite-right intruded on the edge of her consciousness. She briefly considered ignoring it, but the wrong feeling only got worse in those few seconds, so instead she opened her mouth to say something to Éclair. And before she got a single word out, the power flickered, went out, and was replaced by emergency lighting. The double doors slammed open in the next instant and a heavily-armed and masked group burst into the room. 

Just before the screaming started, a much quieter sound drew Lumière's attention to her partner. Éclair was face-down on the table, and Lumière felt a moment of icy panic. Then Éclair lifted her head and once more let it fall, making the same _thunk_ sound as before. She was actually, literally, banging her head on the table. "Whyyy? This can't seriously be happening again."

Lumière didn't get a chance to reply, as the gunmen's orders for everyone to be quiet and stay in their seats started to cut through the screaming and panic. Someone was crying quietly, but otherwise the patrons and staff of the restaurant fell into frightened silence. 

The apparent leader of the gunmen was prowling the room, now, pausing seemingly at random to shove the muzzle of his gun in someone's face angrily. "We will not allow the rise of any more rich parasites! The fall of the Nouvlesse should have been a message to you all! Hoarding wealth is a crime that will be punished!"

Éclair met Lumière's eyes and asked, sotto voce, "Their weapons?"

Lumière closed her eyes for a moment, fingers resting on the table top, and scanned the room. "Only about half are digital. None of the men have cybernetic enhancements."

Éclair tsked in annoyance. With so many innocent bystanders and too many weapons that Lumière couldn't take control of, her preferred tactic of throwing herself at the bad guys and hitting them until they regretted their life choices was risky. Her eyes followed the lead gunman, who continued to stalk around the room, his speech turning to ranting. "What do you think? Robbery? Or...?"

It was a tough question. If the intent was to make the rich less rich, and no one resisted, it was better not to intervene until after the gunmen left the crowded restaurant. If the intent was to _eliminate_ the wealthy, then they had to do something before the shooting started.

When several of the other gunmen began ordering patrons to hand over their money, cards, and jewellery, Lumière let go a little sigh of relief. As much as she knew it must be hurting Éclair to let these men terrorise and rob innocent people, any action she took could turn the restaurant into a shooting gallery.

As one of the thieves got nearer to their table, Lumière saw that Éclair's attention had shifted away from the lead gunman. Lumière couldn't see what she was looking at, but Éclair was whispering fiercely, over and over, "Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't be a hero."

The scrape of a chair being pushed back from a table was loud in Lumière's ears, and her eyes met Éclair's again. There was the sound of a scuffle behind her, as the man Éclair had been watching made some sort of move, and then the crunch of a gun stock striking flesh as the gunman won out. But the man's actions tipped the balance of the room away from compliant fear and a rumble of dissent rose. So did the barrels of the thieves' guns. "Go."

Éclair was a blur, and then simply gone from her chair. Lumière disabled the firing mechanisms in all the guns she could access, then reached for the utility robots in the kitchen and set them to spinning about the dining room, tripping up gunmen with mop handles or simply by ramming into their knees from behind; if real lives weren't at stake, it could have been a farce fit for the stage. But then there was Éclair, poetry in brutal motion as she systematically put down gunman after gunman, leaving them groaning on the floor next to their twisted and broken guns. 

When the last thief fell, Éclair landed on a table, her dress irreparably torn up the side, her hair wild and her eyes sparking with anger. Lumière felt a smile tugging at her lips, despite the resounding failure the night had become. This was her Éclair, in the end--coarse and violent and heartbreakingly lovely. Flipping her badge open, Éclair declared, "Under my authority as a GOTT ES member, I charge you with being..." she faltered, there, and then continued with rather less gravitas, "Domestic criminals, and a problem for the police."

***

It was nearly dawn by the time they made it back to Lumière's home; her driver offered to take Éclair back to her place, as well, but she was tired enough that Lumière unilaterally declared that she was spending the night. Éclair offered no objections. 

The restaurant had comped their meal and thrown in the rest of that bottle of wine, but that was just about the only thing that had gone well. The police had been full of questions--and no small amount of suspicion that GOTT had been performing an undercover operation without notifying them. It took a personal call from Eclipse to convince the police to keep their questions for a formal meeting later in the week. 

Éclair flopped onto a padded chair in Lumière's receiving room "for a minute," and immediately fell dead asleep. The ruined dress was riding so far up Éclair's thighs at that point that Lumière could only shake her head and smile at her partner's endless supply of unladylike behaviour. Covering her with a blanket, Lumière pressed a butterfly-soft kiss to Éclair's forehead and whispered, "Happy Anniversary."

Because, in the end, what other day could she have chosen for her "birthday" but the day her life really began, the day she met Éclair? And if Éclair never quite kept track of individual days as the decades and the centuries flowed past, that was fine. Every time they woke in new bodies, no matter what else changed, they were the same ages they'd been that day; whether Éclair consciously recognised the meaning or not, that was enough to tell Lumière that her partner felt the same way she did.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what the supplementary material says about why they always seem to end up the same ages when they get new bodies, but I liked the idea that it was because that's when they first met, so I went with it.


End file.
